


The Lone Wanderer

by StaticNexus



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Vault 101
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-16 17:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19656892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaticNexus/pseuds/StaticNexus
Summary: The events leading up to the Lone Wanderer's escape from Vault 101. Staring Boston Rose, who was my original Lone Wanderer from Fallout 3. I originally started this to bridge what were some of the plot holes from Fallout 3. Note: This chapter is incomplete.





	The Lone Wanderer

‘You live in Vault 101 and you die in Vault 101.’  
What happens in between is shit.  
Every day is the same, dim lights, stale air, bland food and the Overseer watching your every move.  
I asked my dad once if it was always like this. His answer was the same, like he was guarding some ancient lie, “The vault isn’t perfect, but it is your home.”  
I suppose.  
When I was just a girl, I used to dream that if I opened the steel door I would find a wild world, green and lush with life, a wild world reborn.  
But the Overseers said that there is nothing out there but a dead world of radiation and ruin. October 23, 2077 was the day the world ended in the nuclear fire of the Great War. No one survived. All life on earth is extinct except for the survivors in Vault 101.  
Maybe he’s right. But it’s been almost two hundred years and no one has been outside. If there really isn’t anyone alive then what’s the harm and looking just to be sure? Don’t we have to go back out there sometime? This Vault can’t endure forever, and if we are the only humans left we have to reemerge sometime, otherwise aren’t we just delaying our inevitable extinction?  
I know I’m not supposed to think these things. But I can’t help it. My days are long and uneventful. I’m supposed to monitor the reactor core for any signs of trouble. But there never are. When Vault-Tec built this reactor, they built it to last. They built it to be simple so that a child could use it and it never fails.  
Even now the green glow of the computer monitor indicates that all systems are normal. Of course they are. They have been ever since I got this job after I passed my G.O.A.T test three years ago shortly after I turned sixteen.  
I run a quick systems diagnostic of the main computer core. It takes about two minutes and the results are predictable. Great, just ten more hours of this.  
I’m too tired to read and too annoyed for anything to hold my attention for more than just a few minutes. Maybe somewhere, decades from now when Mr. Armstrong passes I will get promoted to chief technician but until this is my job. Forever.  
My patience reaches its breaking point and I leave the reactor in search of something more stimulating. It’s still early morning and most of the residents are performing their duties.  
A security guard asks where I’m going and I tell him that I am going to maintenance. Maybe they’ll come looking for me later. Maybe they won’t. Most likely they won’t. Most of the guards are pricks. But they’re lazy pricks.  
I go down four levels to the field, It’s an indoor area used for picnics and the occasional pick-up game. The lights here are the brightest anywhere in the vault. It’s almost possible to believe that there’s a sky overhead. But it’s an illusion. It’s just a hollow cave. When I was in school we’d come here for Phys-ed and we used to play a game to see who would be the first to hit a stalactite.  
Butch usually won.  
I set up the pitching machine and fill it with baseballs. I grab a bat and wait for the first pitch. I swing and it flies high enough to hit the ceiling. I swing again and miss. The third pitch is a line drive straight to the wall.  
With each swing I forget my troubles. I remember last year hitting a double to help my team the Dwellers beat the Tunnel snakes. It was funny because for a gang of teenage boys there really wasn’t an athlete among any of them. Eventually, the last ball zips by.  
A slow clap comes from behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see Steve Mack behind me. He’s a low level security guard and a prick.  
“Nice Boston, and yet you wonder why you weren’t voted prom queen.”  
I bit my lip. I hate being called me by my first name. It’s silly to be named after a dead American city. My full name is Boston Catheryn Rose. My friends call me Rose or Rosie, everyone else usually calls me by my first name. Though Butch liked calling me Cathy just to rub it in my face that my mother was dead.  
I turn around the bat still in my hand. “Do you need something,” I say coolly.  
“The Overseer wants a word with you.” He draws his baton and grips it tightly in his hands and smiles that shit eating grin.  
I stare at him. I won’t give him the pleasure and I toss the bat aside. I walk out of the cavern and back into the vault. Officer Mack pushes me in the small of the back as he escorts me to the Overseer’s office.  
Overseer Almodovar has never liked me. I doubt he truly likes anyone in this vault but he hates me because his daughter, Amata, is my best friend.  
He is standing and looking out the circular widow into the atrium.  
Officer Mack clears his throat.  
The Overseer continues his glance out into the atrium.  
“Boston,” he says.  
“Rose,” I said.  
He ignores my protest and proceeds. “Do you have a problem with your job?” he asks.  
“No it’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” I said.  
“Is that so?” He turns around and faces me. His lips are tight. He strokes his gray beard and returns to his chair. Because in the work report’s I’ve noticed that you are rarely on time, you leave for long periods during the day and you leave early.”  
“But I preform my expected duties exactly as specified in the Vault-Tec operations guide.”  
The Overseer’s gray eyes shown like cold steel on his firm face.  
“Everyone in this vault, performs their jobs to my expectations. They don’t talk out of line. They report to their jobs on time and work happily. Even Butch and his wannabe hooligans know the penalty for stepping out of line. But you, you think the rules don’t apply to you because you are James’ daughter that you are somehow immune to the rules. You think that I won’t come down hard just because you are Amata’s friend. You will learn just how wrong you are.”  
Officer Mack drew his baton and struck me in behind the knee. I fell forward and caught myself against the Overseer’s circular desk.  
“You are going to get with the program. From now on you will do what I say and when I say it. Starting on Monday you’re going to find a new job in waste reclamation.”  
“Waste reclamation! My Dad will kill me.”  
Officer Mack grabbed his baton and pressed it into my hand pushing my bones down into the desk. I screamed and tried to push him away but he pushed his knee into my shoulder and held me down.  
“Start worrying more about what I’m going to do with you. Now you should start thinking about finding a husband. You’re nineteen now and have prime breeding potential. It is the job of every woman in this vault to procreate to provide the next generation of children. You have two weeks to begin courting someone and six months to marry them or I will see you married to Butch DeLoria.  
“Lastly, your sexual preferences are well known. You will stay away from Amata. If she visits you, you refuse to see her. You won’t be her friend anymore. Do you understand me?”  
Tears stung my eyes. Amata was my best friend. She had been since we were both babies. And what did he know about my sexual preferences? This whole thing about me linking girls was just a rumor started by Butch in the seventh grade. Which is ironic because Butch is now the vault’s hairdresser. What about his sexual preferences?  
“And if you disobey me, well, I know you think of these fine officers as pricks and let’s just say you’ll know how much of pricks they can be. I’ll let them have their way with you and well let’s just say we won’t have to worry about your contribution to the vault.”  
He nodded and Officer Mack withdrew his baton and stepped off me. I didn’t look up. He was taking my life away from me. He thought he could mold me like clay into the vault citizen that he wanted and the worst part was he was right. There was absolutely nothing I could do about it.  
“Have we reached an understanding young lady?”  
I looked up at him. If there was any way I could kill him, I would.  
“Good,” he said just as the world went dark as Office Mack stuck his Taser into my neck.

When I awoke I was in jail. My head puled to the rhythm of my heart and every muscle I had was sore.


End file.
